♫ Boy you should say
You’re falling for me ♫
-- Suzy, SObeR

Most of the racers, and the people in charge of the illegal racing company had been arrested. Those who were on the run would surely be caught soon, and thus, the police chief could finally heave a sigh of relief.

He wouldn't have to face any more complaints about the disturbances at night due to the street racing.

Celeste, in order not be scolded for disappearing, had assisted in catching two more racers, and five more members that were giving the officers a tough time. It worked out well, and no one had any qualms about him going off midway.

"Hey, mate."

Celeste was in the process of changing out from his clothes when Michael came into the locker room, calling out to him. Celeste turned to look at Michael, removing his shirt completely.

It was evident that Celeste exercised regularly, his lean body was definitely a sight for desperate ladies.

"Officer Hardin said you went off on your own halfway, ya alright?" Michael leaned on the locker beside Celeste.

Celeste recalled himself chasing after Peach's motorcycle. He stopped further behind to avoid being spotted, sneaking forward only to find someone pointing the gun right at her head.

Thus, he immediately readied his pistol and shot their gun away. He couldn't have her dying, not with this many unanswered questions in his mind.

His questions grew even more when he noticed the familiar trademark of Crimson host club members. The chip he identified embedded within their earring only confirmed his conclusion further.

Somehow, they had come looking for Peach and he couldn't understand why. Moreover, with the way Peach answered his questions earlier, he knew that she was something she was still hiding from him.

"Cel, mate? Ya hear me?" Michael raised his eyebrows, waving his hand.

"Do you know Crimson?" Celeste asked suddenly.

Michael frowned, stopping his hand, "you mean that host club the chief told us not to touch? Why?"

"Chief knows about them?" Celeste raised his eyebrows. He was hardly surprised by things, and this was one of the few moments.

Having been here for almost a month, he hasn't seen any redeeming qualities of his so-called chief. The chief gave off the impression of a person that would rather seclude himself from everyone else, and he didn't have any charisma that demands respect.

"That the host club is filled with hitmen disguised as hosts? Yeah, the chief knows a lot of things." Michael shrugged his shoulders before smirking at Celeste's surprised expression. "I know that look, you can't believe it, can you? It's even a shocker that everyone listens to our chief, am I right?"

For once, Celeste found himself agreeing to Michael as he nodded, taking his t-shirt from his locker.

"Just wait till you see the chief doing things that hits you like a fucking truck," Michael patting Celeste on the shoulder once. "Then you'll know why."

"Sure." Celeste answered half-heartedly, wearing his shirt.

"Anyway, what ya asking about them for? They targeting someone you know or something?"

"Peach."

Michael straightened himself. "What?"

"But they are not targeting her like a normal hitman do."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I spotted her being threatened with a gun. Hitmen don't threaten, they kill."

"Huh, yeah, weird. So what did you do?"

"Save her, it was the only thing I thought of."

"Really, mate?" Michael deadpanned. "You disappeared halfway to have fun and flirt with her?"

Celeste swivelled his head to Michael, unable to believe what he had just said.

"Flirting?"

"Yeah, that's what the two of you are doing. First time you met her, the two of you were playing a chasing game and she left you a message, calling you a hottie. Second time you met her, you called her pretty since you saw her real face. And now, the third time, you saved her life," Michael explained, and to Celeste who had never dated anyone, he couldn't understand the concept of flirting. "I wouldn't be surprised if she kissed you on the cheek the next time you meet. And strangers don't meet so easily, you know?"

"...it was all coincidences." Celeste stated, putting on his broody face.

"The first time, it's random. The second time, it's a coincidence. The third time, it's something...and the fourth time onwards? It's fate."

Celeste shut his locker door, not saying anything. What Michael was stating was too ridiculous to believe.

"Don't be surprised if you another "coincidence" with her again."

Celeste just walked out from the room,  with Michael just hollering at him that "it's fate!" and that made him frown. Celeste only threw Michael a look to keep quiet, shutting the door afterwards.

Michael rubbed at his chest, feeling an inexplicable feeling welling up within him.

"Wh-what's this gratifying feeling I feel?" Michael continued rubbing, breaking out into a small smile. "I never knew teasing that stoic ass could feel so fulfilling."

Michael had totally forgotten the original subject of the conversation at that time.

***

Celeste dressed in the common suit and tie outfit, with his tie being bright coloured today. His mother had picked it out for him as a birthday present, observing the tie in the mirror, he paused.

...I haven't visited them in a while, neither have I told them I'm actually living in Neo.

Celeste looked conflicted before he shrugged it off and began to adjust his tie. He turned to the closet, choosing a coat to wear over when his phone rang on the display table.

Smart phone had been developed and improved over the years, resulting in it becoming so slim where it can be compared to the thickness of a few pieces of paper.

Smart phones could also be configured to connect with one's smart lenses. Though, it was based on personal preference if one wanted their phones to be linked with their lenses or not.

Celeste turned to grab his extremely slim smart phone, answering the call within a heartbeat.

"Ashbrand."

"Detective? It's Hardin, the chief told me to inform you that you have been assigned to a new case with Detective Williams."

"Yeah."

"It's a murder case."

Celeste frowned, "not my department."

"The chief insisted, the case is related to your category, detective."

"Where?"

"Crimson, the host club."

Celeste remembered Peach being threatened by a member of that club. It piqued his interest, but it didn't show in his face or voice.

"Mhmm." he hummed in response, wearing his coat on one side.

"The case might be related to the night courier "Peach", since there was a paper beside the victim with her name on it. Her signature is on it as well."

Celeste halted.

"Understood." he ended the call simply.

On the other end, Officer Hardin could only stare at his phone with a conflicted look. He had contacted Michael beforehand, and he was almost pulling his phone away from ear due to Michael's explosive and exuberant reactions about the case, as well as the chief assigning him to an important case like this.

However, with Celeste's curt and quiet responses, it made Officer Hardin feel like he was interrupting Celeste's precious time.

"So you talked to them?" One officer asked.

"Yeah."

The officer laughed, patting him on the back. "Exhausting, ain't it? That's why no one likes to talk to them."

"How the hell do they even work together?"

"No one knows."

At that moment, Michael arrived via a passenger drone. He immediately dashed in, clearly too excited for his own good.

"Hey, hey, officers! I'm here!"

Michael was beside himself in glee, at finally getting assigned to a big case.

The two officers sighed.

"Here comes one."

"Yep."

***

Peach had woken up earlier than usual today. Hence, she told Arwen to update her on the news more than usual.

"There is a news article related to you, Peach."

"Really? What, is it singing with praises about me? Or something defaming me again?"

"Neither of that."

"Just show the video on the television screen."

"Very well."

Peach relaxed on her couch, watching the television screen with a bored look. She was starting to regret this, the news about her never really affected her or interests her in any way.

"At around 12p.m., there has been a murder case at the famous Crimson host club. The victim's name was Julian Argo, a man in his late twenties, and Mr. Argo was found dead with a piece of paper beside his body that mentions the name of an infamous night courier, Peach, and it contains her signature as well."

Peach stood up from her couch, her eyes wide in disbelief. The only picture that was taken of her was now clearly shown on the screen, magnified.

"Peach is now regarded the main suspect of this case--"

"Pause it."

There was a short moment of silence before Arwen spoke.

"The news article is a murder case, and your name is related to it."

"Ye-yes, Arwen. I can clearly see that."

"What do you plan to do now, Peach?"

Peach huffed, staring at the screen with the incriminating evidence of her being there. She has never murdered anyone in her life, and neither does she plan to do it.

She was a criminal, but she wasn't a killer.

The anger was reflected in her peach eyes, and her face twisted into one of rage. The innocent and pretty countenance was now gone.

She was infuriated, extremely.

"Find out who was the motherfucker that dared to frame me."

Her voice that was normally high-pitched was now so low, it would have sent shivers down someone's spine.